A dream is a wish your heart makes
by CarlaBarlow
Summary: Carla is happily loved up with Nick, but then a surprising dream leaves her wanting more. Wanting someone else. Someone she had long forgotten. Story may get rather steamy.
1. Chapter 1

Hey! Thought I would try something a little different and write my own Fic. First one so we'll just see where it goes. Reviews gratefully received :)

* * *

I sit bolt upright. My eyes shoot open. My breathing ragged. My chest heavy. My skin clammy. My breath repeatedly catching in my throat. I lay my head back into the pillow, feeling the silk as it touches my neck, torturing the already overstimulated hairs which are standing to attention.

My eyes are slowly adjusting to their surroundings. Slowly becoming accustomed to the light that seeps through the gap in the curtains. The light bounces off the walls, reflecting onto the bed and highlighting my tanned legs as I lie uncovered on the bed. Somehow in this ordeal I have lost the sheet that usually drapes across my body, protecting me from the outside world. My eyes catch my reflection in the mirror, and it's at that moment that I realise I don't want to be awake, I don't want this to be reality, I want to rewind to just moments ago, I want that to be reality. I want the heaviness on my chest to be caused by an entirely different reason.

* * *

In a desperate attempt to feel as I did, to regain that extraordinary pleasure once more I close my eyes, squeezing them as tight as I can and willing myself back to sleep, back into that dream. That dream which originally had taken me by complete surprise. That dream that was so vivid, so clear, so nearly touchable, feel-able. He was so nearly touchable. I wanted those dreamy eyes to be staring back into mine as he teased me.

The desperation I feel to relive the dream that plays so clear in my mind is overwhelming and so I decide to give myself a helping hand in getting back that feeling. Dragging my finger tips across the red silky sheets I allow the feel of the material to move softly beneath me before reaching my thigh. I move my hand to the outside of my leg, running a single finger up and down. With the same single finger I head up my body, dancing my finger up to the top of my thigh, over my hip bone and onto my tummy - drawing shapes that mirrored those that he had made only moments ago. This wasn't enough. How could it be? My senses were so over stimulated now that I couldn't stop. I continued. Reaching for my breast, my nipples already hard from the lustful images that played through my mind. I squeezed my fingers together, catching my nipple between them and imagining those hands didn't belong to me. I tilted my head. My teeth clenched onto my lower lip. This felt so good, but still, my dream had been so much better. My thighs clenched together and it was in that second that I felt the warmness that came from below. I let my hand run down my body, quickly, stroking me as it left my nipples aching for more. It ran over the lace of my black thong as my legs parted in anticipation. My newly manicured finger nail ran down the side of my lips as my back arched off the bed. I could already feel the wetness; feel my juices as they met with my cold fingertips. Before I could stop myself my fingers ran between my lips, tormenting my clit with agonising slowness and a throaty moan escaped my lips. This was it, I was about to recreate my dream. About to feel him touch me all over. To kiss me in a way that left me breathless, to feel him buried deep inside of me.

* * *

It was at that moment that the body that lay next to me moved, turning slightly in his sleep. His blonde hair contrasting against the red sheets, his torso speckled with hair. I stared at him. Nick. So sweet. He worshipped the ground I walked on. Made me feel that there was someone in this world who wanted me. And I thought I wanted him. I had wanted him for months, or had I? But as I looked over at him, my fingers still dripping with my wetness I realised maybe I didn't want him as much as I thought. For if I had of done, I wouldn't be lay here now; aroused; horny; dripping wet and needing another man. Another man whose face I hadn't seen for over a year, hadn't spoken to since he ripped my whole world apart. A man who I told myself, and everyone else for that matter, that I was over - that I didn't care, want or love. And I didn't love him. I just wanted him. I wanted him now. I wanted him to take me, to push me into oblivion. I wanted Peter.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning I awake in a lonely bed, no nick, and more importantly, more devastatingly, no him. The thought takes me by surprise. Why would I want him in my bed when I can have Nick? Sweet Nick, Nick who cares for me and wants only me.

I lie there for a moment, thinking about the day ahead; the meetings planned at work; the predictable arguments between the factory girls; and the even more predictable night with Nick. Nick and I had fallen into a comfortable life together, but one that could be almost scripted. We did the same thing, day after day, night after night. He would try and pop into work at dinner time to see how I was, I'd finish work and head back to the flat and wait for him to join me once he had finished at the bistro. He'd come home, we would eat - normally some health kick style meal that Nick wanted to try - we would watch TV and head to bed. Undress ourselves, and climb into our respective side of the bed, a quick cuddle and then sleep. Although, of course, some nights we had sex but again, it was somewhat monotonous. I'm not saying Nick was bad in bed, in fact at first I was pleasantly surprised, but very rarely did he mix it up, I never quivered in anticipation like I did with Peter.

'God damn it' I scolded myself after realising I was thinking about him again. 'Right that's enough of that' I firmly say out loud as I climb out of bed and head for breakfast.

* * *

Walking into the kitchen I notice Nick is already dressed and ready for the day. I roll my eyes thinking how unsurprising it is that he's wearing another suit, somewhat a staple of nicks wardrobe. My thoughts are interrupted as nick turns to face me and hands me my breakfast, and with a cheery 'good morning' kisses my head. I smile back at him and look down to what is now sat in front of me. A glass of water, and some healthy cereal that could have quite possibly been swept out of a rabbit cage. I know I should be grateful, and deep down I am for I know he's just looking after me but I can't help but let my thoughts flicker to how Peter wouldn't make me eat this. Of course, he too would look after me, making sure I ate but he knew that a coffee and bacon roll is much more my style.

Nick sits with me as I eat as much of the cereal as I can face and I can't help but feel guilty over my thoughts since my shock awakening in the night. I can hear Nick talking to me but his words aren't actually registering, not that he seems to notice as a nod of the head and a simple 'yeah' every now and then hides my disinterest. Finally, after what feels like hours, Nick rises from the stool at 8am, kisses my head and heads towards the door. I glance at the clock and can't help but roll my eyes as it is the exact same time as he leaves for work every other day.

'See you later Carla' he calls.

'Bye Nick'

And with that he's gone, the door closing behind him. A breathe out a sigh of relief and feel my shoulders relax. _Why is Nick rubbing me up the wrong way today_ I think as I head towards the bathroom, ridding myself of my vest and shorts as soon as I enter. Within seconds of turning the shower on the room is full of hot air, a mist clouds the room as the sounds of the water drums down. I step forward, allowing the heat of the water to capture me. The water running over my shoulders, down my breasts and off the ends of my nipples. I reach for the shower gel, squirting it onto my pouf and working it into a lather before massaging it into my body. My hands glide across my skin as I circle my breasts, and then lower onto my tummy. As my hand ventures further down my mind is suddenly awoken with flashbacks of my dream. Of the way _his_ hands had roamed my body. How he had left wet kisses down my chest as he ferociously headed for the spot we both craved. How his tongue had ran across my hips, across my pubic bone. My breath became laboured at the thought of what happened next. I could allow my hands to do the work for me, after all I am a grown woman, a woman who has never been ashamed of her sexual need but I was under no illusion that today, at this moment, I'd be left far from satisfied at my own touch.

I finished my shower in a hurry, a pout spread across my face and headed to the bedroom where I sat and applied my makeup and dried and styled my hair into soft waves. The white towel was still hugging my body as I walked towards the wardrobe to choose my outfit. I stood, inspecting the expensive items dangling before me, being sure to choose the perfect outfit. After all, Peter appeared in my dream last night, and if he was to appear again tonight, I had to look my best. I laughed out loud at the thought; I was seriously choosing clothes in case my ex-husband appeared in my dreams. Peter would never see this outfit, he was miles away, and if, through some kind of miracle, he did happen to appear in my unconscious thoughts later that night, I was sure there wouldn't be any need for clothes, for either of us. Shaking my head I chose a pair of black skinny jeans, a white blouse and a pair of killer black heals before grabbing my handbag and car keys and heading for the factory.

* * *

The day dragged slowly by, this morning's meeting had gone well - securing a contract that would keep us going for the foreseeable. As expected, pointless bickering from the factory lot had pushed me to the end of my tether. Nick had, as predicted, called by at lunch time, and I had guiltily never been less enthusiastic to see anyone before in my life. Why was I suddenly so uninterested? Why was the man before me not filling me with butterflies purely from his look? Why didn't I want to drag him home that instant and take him to bed. Deep down, and much to my disgust, I was completely aware of why - he just wasn't Peter.

'Want anything from the cake run Mrs Connor?' Sean interrupted my thoughts

'No thanks Seany, have you lot finished that order yet?'

'Bloody hell, give us a chance!' Beth screeched from behind him.

'That order is due today, get to work!' I screamed. I knew I was overreacting slightly, they had worked hard all morning but I just wasn't in the mood today.

Slamming the door I collapsed back into the chair, and rested my head on the desk. I needed to pull myself together; I couldn't spend every minute of the day flustered by my own thoughts. I needed to forget about last night; after all I was never going to see this man again.

'Fuck' I whispered. The words stuck in my throat. My chest was constricting at the thought of never seeing Peter again. Before I could comprehend what was happening I'd grabbed my bag and keys and was heading for the car. It was as if my legs were carrying me of their own accord.

'Where are you off to?!' Michelle appeared, stepping out from the cabin. She began to make her way over, no doubt for a catch up but as much as I love Michelle, she is not who I want right now.

'Business meeting, can't stay and chat' I call before clambering into the car.

Setting up the Satnav I realised how insane this was, but still, I couldn't stop myself from typing in the word I knew would open Pandora's Box.

 _Portsmouth._


	3. Chapter 3

Even as I was driving I knew how crazy this was. It had been so long since I saw Peter, would he even want to see me; did I really want to see him; would he even recognise me? I could simply turn around right now and go home, forget any of this ever happened. But I couldn't, there was something burning deep inside of me that wouldn't allow me to. Something within me needed to do this to dampen the blaze that was suddenly roaring within. My body was reacting without me even realising, like I was on autopilot, I had no recollection of driving, instead past memories played over and over in my mind. Memories of my past life. The life which I had once shared with him. The life where I was truly, completely and unexplainably in love. Of course, there had been many men in my life, both before and after Peter, but the love we had once shared had been one that I had never felt before. I was sure we were forever, I was sure he would be the man I'd grow old with, the man I'd have a family with. I felt my heart slam against my chest at this thought. He was the man I'd started a family with, my beautiful baby girl, our beautiful baby girl. It could have been so perfect, we could have been a real family with Simon too, the kind of family I had always wanted to be a part of when I was a child. Why did he have to ruin everything?

'I fucking hate him' I seethed. But still, I couldn't turn around. I was so worked up after the continuous flashbacks that had captured my mind all day that I had to finish this. I had already decided that there was no way I would actually see Peter, no way would I talk to him. He would never even know I was there - hell he would think I had finally lost the plot! His ex, who he hadn't seen in years, turning up in his new town - the thought alone was laughable. But I just had to see him with my own eyes, it was the only way I could convince myself that he really was the last man on earth I wanted.

'You have reached your destination' the annoying high pitch woman declared as I pulled into a side street just around the corner from Peter's new place of work. Of course, it was a bookies - Peter loved being a bookie and when he wasn't being reckless he was a damn good bookie too. Switching off the engine I collapsed back into the leather of my seat, desperately trying to calm my breathing and stop my hands from shaking - I needed to compose myself.

'Breathe. Breathe. Just get this over with. Just look through the window and then go home'. I whispered

A few minutes later my trembling hand was reaching for the door handle, cautiously pulling it towards me. I stepped out of the car, the sun beaming down as the Portsmouth sea air battered my senses - the seagulls circling above; the laughing of children from what I presume is the nearby beach; and the hustle and bustle of a normal English seaside town. It was pretty, quaint even, and I could see the attraction of being here. Although it wasn't somewhere I would usually put Peter; I could understand how it was probably relaxing for him.

Slowly I walked towards the bookies, I wasn't sure my legs could deal with any fast movements right now. I turned the corner and straight away I could see the shop - brick walls, glass panelled windows, a red painted door with two glass panels at the top - it wasn't a high-end chained betting shop, it looked more like a family business - a stark resemblance of the shop back at Coronation Street. I glanced around; looking for somewhere I could hide, knowing I couldn't just stand outside the shop. On the opposite side of the road, a couple of shops away I spotted a bench. It was far enough away that Peter wouldn't notice me, but close enough for me to be able to see him.

'Perfect' I thought, putting my head down and walking past the shop at lightening speed. I sat down, crossed my legs and stared inside, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of him.

* * *

She squinted; trying to adjust her eyes to ignore the reflection in the glass and instead peer inside for the person she was suddenly desperate to lay eyes on. She looked around the walls of the shop, covered in Posters and Television screens showing the latest horse race. Her eyes darted from wall to wall, searching the room, and finally, stood behind the counter she spotted him. There he was, stood only a mere distance away. Her heart slammed against her chest at the mere sight of him. Butterflies appeared in her stomach. Carla stared at him, taking in the features of her once lover. He hadn't changed a bit, still the same Peter that she had lusted after all those years ago. He was dressed in his trademark look, jeans and a black t-shirt. Carla smiled, she had always loved his casual ways and right now, in her current somewhat sensitive state, the sight of Peter dressed like this wasn't helping her. Peter was leant across the counter, one hand drumming the wood below. Those hands, the hands that she had dreamt were roaming her body just last night - she couldn't help but be distracted by them. But nothing distracted Carla more than what Peter was doing with his other hand. Clearly Peter was in a thoughtful state and was doing what he always did when he was deep in thought - twiddling a pen in his mouth. Carla watched as he bit down on it, and every now and then she caught site of his tongue as it grazed the pen. That tongue. The sweet music he could make with that magical instrument as it took her into oblivion.

'Fuck'. Carla couldn't believe that such a mundane action could make her feel so flustered. Her eyes were completely and utterly transfixed on him, the ghost she thought had been left in her past. She noticed the tattoos on his arms, just below where the sleeve finished; his arms slightly more muscly than they used to be. As she soaked in the man before her she couldn't help but realise the stark contrast between Peter and the man she had left back at home - not only were Peter and Nick different physically, their personality couldn't be further apart either. Peter was dominating and rugged, whereas Nick was laid back and placid. Peter had ripped her heart out, whereas Nick would never hurt her. Carla was all too aware of this, but still she couldn't stop her mind from wondering to all of the 'what ifs' of her life with Peter, and, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the image of Peter tantalising her body out of her head.

The smirk that spread across her face soon began to disappear when a shadow within the shop caught her eye. When she focused her attention once more she saw a second figure, appearing out of the door next to Peter, and handing him a cup before resting her hand on his shoulder. Carla couldn't deny it, she was beautiful; tall, dark hair just below her shoulders, an amazing figure. Jealousy ripped through Carla's whole body and she could feel her heart physically break as she watched the scene unfold before her. She watched as Peter continued his paperwork, yet the conversation seemed to flow and they clearly enjoyed each other's company as they were continuously laughing.

Carla Connor was notorious for being a heartless bitch, but she was all too aware that Peter Barlow was her one true weakness. The emotions were already rising, ready to break free at any moment. This was too much; she had to get away from here. Reaching for her bag she desperately began looking for her car keys.

* * *

Inside the shop Peter had just finished the final paperwork that had been piling up for weeks. He may be a good business man, but he hated the admin side of it so as the afternoon had died down he had decided to take full advantage and catch up. The day had been fairly busy, punter after punter coming in to try their luck and Peter was counting down the minutes until he could shut up and head home. The shop was empty, paperwork completed and he was dying for a fag.

'Won't be long' he said to the brunette as he slid his leather jacket on and headed towards the door. Walking outside he smiled as he felt the fresh air hit his face for the first time in hours, he loved his job but he felt claustrophobic inside the shop, like the walls were closing in on him. As his body relaxed against the brick wall he dug deep into his pocket and pulled out the cigarette packet. Placing one between his lips he lit the end and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and immediately tasted the nicotine. When his eyes opened he was immediately drawn to the somewhat familiar figure sat on the bench. Jet black hair was covering the face of the petite frame currently ransacking her handbag in desperation but he didn't need to see a face. The tingling sensation that currently ran through his body and made his heart beat faster told him all he needed to know.

'It's her'. His voice was barely a whisper.

It was her. It was Carla. His ex wife. The love of his life. The woman he had hurt in ways he would never forgive himself for. Peter had seen a lot in his life, but nothing would ever have prepared him for seeing her sat before him. He gripped the wall behind him, his legs turning to jelly and the air escaping his lungs as he desperately tried to regain a normal breathing rate. His eyes never left her, he was too scared to take them away in case she disappeared - instead he just stood and watched her as she continued to search her bag. Peter toyed with the idea of slipping back into the shop and pretending he never saw her, but deep down he knew he could never walk away from her now. Before he could change his mind he began to walk towards her, a journey that seemed never ending although in reality lasted no more than twenty seconds.

'Finally!' Carla called as she set hands on the keys that of course were sitting right at the bottom of her bag. She could finally get out of here; get away from watching Peter and his new happy life. Placing the handbag strap over her shoulder she turned her body to stand and it was in that second she saw him. Stood before her with a look of complete and utter shock on his face. Her heart was beating so fast and hard she could hear it ringing in her ears as she heard the sound she hadn't heard in what felt like a life time. His gruff, deep voice slowly bringing her back to reality.

'Carla?'

* * *

 **Hope you guys are enjoying this so far - I have a few ideas in mind to continue with. Please feel free to review - both good and bad!**

 **Next chapter up soon. xx**


	4. Chapter 4

Carla could have sworn her heart had physically stopped the moment she heard her name fall effortlessly from Peter's mouth. Her plan had well and truly been scuppered; she'd been seen. Not only had she been seen but Peter was now stood before her; complete confusion etched upon his face. She hadn't prepared for this. She had no plan. How was she going to explain this? This was completely insane. What was she even doing here? How can she get away? Carla thought about running straight past Peter and driving away before he could catch her, but could she really do that to him now? Deep down she already knew the answer to that. She had turned up out of the blue and the least she could do is be polite to him, especially after her recent unconscious adventures with her ex lover.

'Carla' his voice came again, this time louder, more demanding.

She sighed, lowering her head and staring at the floor. Embarrassment soared through her body; she couldn't believe she had been stupid enough to come all this way. She closed her eyes, praying that when she opened them again this would all be a dream.

'What are you doing here? Are you okay?'

The confusion and worry in Peter's voice all too evident. Carla opened her eyes and looked up slightly, although she had still yet to make eye contact with him. She knew she couldn't, one look in those brown eyes and she was playing a dangerous game; she was all too aware of the hold they had over her. Her thoughts were snatched away from her as she felt Peter's finger under her chin, gently raising her head until it was level with his. The shock of Peter's gentle touch against her skin alighted her senses, goosebumps consuming every inch of her skin. Carla couldn't help but wonder how he had the power to make her react like that through such a simple action. But as she thought about it more and more she knew exactly why - as much as she hated to admit it.

'Look at me; talk to me Carla. What is it?'

Knowing she couldn't avoid this any longer she let her eyes roam and lock with his. Her tummy somersaulted once the connection had been made.

'Hey' he whispered, knowing that he finally had her attention.

Carla fidgeted for a second, shifting her weight between her feet, adjusting her handbag that had fallen off her shoulder through pure shock. Finally, she allowed herself to speak,

'Hi Peter'

Her voice was no louder than a whisper. She hadn't meant for it to come out that way, she wanted to show strength, show how unfazed she was, but her body failed her. How could she possibly show strength as she stood before Peter Barlow? This man was her weakness, and she knew it and she hated it. But what she hated more was that Peter knew he was her weakness, or rather he used to know, Carla couldn't be quite sure what he knew right now by the look on his face.

'Carla, what are you doing here? Are you okay? Is Si okay? Oh no it's not me dad is it? Oh god please don't tell me something bad has happened; tell me you're okay?'

Peter ran his hand through his hair, inhaling sharply on the cigarette gripped between his fingers. Carla replayed what he had just said, his first and last question were making sure she was okay. Her. He hadn't laid eyes on Carla in so long yet still that was his first thought. Some things never change. Carla smiled slightly before saying

'Peter calm down. Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. I'm just here on business. I didn't know you were living here?'

Carla knew she couldn't tell him the truth and instead thought this was a believable story.

'I thought you were abroad somewhere?' She added.

It kind of was the truth, Peter had been working abroad but had been back for months and Carla knew this thanks to Ken, but still Peter didn't need to know that tiny bit of information.

'How long have you been back here?' She added, pleased with how believable she thought she sounded to Peter.

The only problem with that was that despite spending an unbearable amount of time apart, Peter still knew Carla. He knew when she was lying to him. He could tell by the little signs that meant nothing to anyone else; the way she breathed a little harder; how her words fell out of her mouth at rocket speed in case she forgot what she was about to say; or how she never quite made eye contact. Despite knowing instantly, Peter decided not to question her; if she was lying to him she had good reason, for he knew Carla well enough to know she cannot stand liars. He had learned that the hard way.

'I've been back a while. Business good then, yeah? I mean it must be if you're in Portsmouth, I could never get you here!' He said, a hint of seriousness in his voice but a slight smile on his face.

'Business is good, can't complain'

She chose to ignore the second part of his comment because she knew that deep down, despite how much she would have hated it she would have followed this man anywhere. In fact she did. It didn't matter where they were, or what they had, as long as she had him that was enough for her. But that was a long time ago, so much had happened since, he had shattered her whole world and as she stood before him she told herself that those days were gone, she wouldn't follow him anywhere anymore. She sighed at the realisation that she was kidding herself, she had just drove hours for him and he hadn't even asked her to.

Carla's sigh intrigued Peter some more.

'Hey, why are you sighing? Are you sure you are okay?'

'I'm fine, I'm just a little shocked to see you, that's all'

'Trust me Carla, no one is more shocked than I am - I can't believe it'

A haunting silence fell upon the past lovers as they shifted awkwardly in front of one another; both trying to avoid eye contact but every few seconds their eyes connected before being ripped away again.

'It's nice weather down here isn't it' Peter piped up, unable to deal with the silence anymore and deciding small talk would be better than nothing. Carla rolled her eyes, she hated small talk and she knew that Peter knew that.

'It's lovely; I can see why you left Weatherfield'.

Peter stared ahead at Carla, desperately trying to capture her attention for more than a second so he could work out what the hell was going on right now. Carla however dropped her eyes to the floor, desperately trying to avoid those brown eyes. Peter started talking about Portsmouth and why he liked living here and Carla seized the moment to properly take in the sight before her. She slowly lifter her eyes from his shoes, up his legs, her eyes travelled up his body until they settled around the middle part of his body. She noticed how he had one hand stuffed into his pocket, the other swinging by his side with the cigarette still hanging between those fingers that Carla knew only too well. His jeans weren't skinny jeans, there was no way that Peter would be seen in those, but they were tight enough round his middle for Carla to be able to appreciate Peter fully. Her eyes continued, up over his chest, she couldn't quite believe how much fitter and healthier he looked. She looked at the stubble on his cheek and wanted to reach out and run her fingers along it. This was getting into dangerous territory. It was all well and good her having these thoughts when Peter was hundreds of miles away but now he was stood in front of her Carla wasn't too sure how to deal with it. She had came here to prove to herself that this was all a silly dream, that she had no hidden feelings for Peter and that she really did love Nick. But as she stood before him, her breathing shallow; her palms sticky, her legs feeling they may give way any second, Carla knew her plan hadn't gone too well. She knew she had to get away and she had to get away fast.

She dared herself to look up, look into those eyes that searched hers looking for a clue as to why she was there. She did it; she looked at him, her green eyes meeting his brown; pupils dilating as they stared deep into the other as a thousand memories were shared without a word spoken. Carla was the first to look away, she couldn't bare it anymore.

'Right Peter, as lovely as this has been I can't stay, I need to head back home. See you around maybe'.

And with that she walked away.

'Carla, wait!'

'Goodbye Peter'

* * *

She couldn't stop. Couldn't turn around and see his face, she could hear the hurt in his voice alone and knew she couldn't bare the look on his face too. Instead she continued to walk away, walk away from her past life. She could feel her heart constricting in her chest as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Carla rarely ran away from anything, she was a strong woman and preferred to face challenges head on rather than burying her head in the sand but when it came to Peter flaming Barlow she knew that he saw straight through the walls she built around herself - and nothing scared Carla more.

Turning the corner out of Peter's sight her walking slowed, doubt setting in - could she really turn her back on Peter all over again? His small smile as he drove away in the taxi all those years ago flickered through her mind; this time it was her leaving. A single tear rolled down her cheek, touching the side of her lips before quickly being wiped away. Carla was not about to stand here and cry. Picking up her pace once more she was meters away from the car before she felt a hand tug her arm, spinning her round. Carla gasped from the touch of Peters hand against her skin. Not only was she shocked that she was again stood face to face with Peter but she couldn't ignore how un-threatened she felt. Since Frank had done the unthinkable to her, she had rebuilt her life - determined not to let him win. Despite successfully battling her demons, she still hated to be touched, flinching at the touch of anyone; even Nick. Peter was the first man who had touched her after Frank, his touch so gentle and understanding; as his fingers had traced her body, his eyes never left hers, his kisses breathing a new sense of life into her. And now, years later, it seemed that Peters touch still made her feel safe.

'Carla wait, don't leave just yet'

'Peter, I-'

'No Carla, please, don't go. Just come for a coffee with me, there's a nice place just down the road'

'Peter, I really need to get back' her head started to spin, she just needed to get away from him before she ended up getting herself in trouble

'Carla. Come on. One drink and then you can go'

The hint of desperation in his voice pulled at Carla's heart strings. How could she deny him now, especially when she had gate crashed his new life by turning up out of the blue. She sighed.

'Okay, one drink, but only because it's you Barlow'

Peter led the way to the coffee shop. It was quiet when they entered, and Peter gestured for her to take a seat in the large leather chairs next to the window before heading to the counter. Carla sat down, a mix of nerves and excitement running through her body. She was grateful that Peter had chosen to sit next to the window; at least if the conversation died they could people watch instead. Peter returned with a tray, Carla looked up, expecting to see two coffees on top - instead she was met with the biggest mug she had ever seen filled with hot chocolate, whipped cream, marshmallows and flake.

'Peter what is that?!'

The childish grin on peters face made her giggle. Anyone else would have brought Carla a coffee, but Peter knew her well enough to know that behind the tough exterior was a child.

'Oh don't even act like you're not dying to drink that Carla'

'You're still a child I see. Thank you' she said reaching forward and picking up the mug.

* * *

Peter sat down and couldn't bare to take his eyes off Carla. He was still utterly dumbfounded that she was there; he had longed to see her for so long. And now here she was, sat in front of him and in all honesty Peter had never seen her looking better. She was stunning. Her hair had grown since he had last saw her and now fell effortlessly over her showers, she was still a dark haired beauty but it was lighter than it used to be, her cheekbones still as sharp as ever, her lips full. Peter felt something stir deep within as he took in her beauty, it had been a while since he had felt like this. Carla, feeling slightly awkward under his gaze, interrupted his thoughts.

'So how are ya then? How is life treating ya down here?'

'I can't complain, I'm doing well down here. I'm working in a bookies, I've got my own flat. I'm settled, I just miss my family and'

He stopped, taking a pause and raining himself in

'How about you? How have you been?'

'I'm okay; things really are going well with the factory- it's going from strength to strength'.

'That's great Carla, but I asked about you' he laughed.

Carla raised her eyebrows; they both knew that that factory basically was her.

'Well, we're one and the same really aren't we, but I'm okay too; Weatherfield doesn't change much but that's the comfort of it really'.

As the conversation effortlessly flowed from work, to Peters new home, to his crazy family back home they soon began to relax. Their undeniable rapport quickly appeared, bouncing off one another with quick come backs and cheeky insults. One drink turned to three drinks and the next time Carla looked at her watch it was 4pm, she knew she had to leave soon but suddenly she wasn't so desperate to get away.

'Come on' Peter said, rising to his feet and holding out his hand to lift Carla up

'What? Where to?'

'I fancy a walk, come on'

He reached and took her hand and pulled her up. She smirked and grabbed her handbag before Peter led her out of the door, releasing her hand once they were outside. Carla tried to ignore the bang of sadness she felt when Peter let go of her, and instead joined him as he strolled down the street. It was autumn and the nights were starting to draw in, the sun had long gone but it wasn't quite dark yet. It was chilly but not cold.

'Woah watch it mate' peter screamed, forcibly tugging Carla's arm and pulling her out of the way of an oncoming cyclist who seemed oblivious to Carla and was heading straight for her. Peter had pulled Carla toward him, her head colliding with his chest; she breathed in his smell and began to relax against him. Peter however seemed unfazed, instead pushing her away and staring at her.

'Are you okay?'

Carla was hurt that he had pushed her away; he hadn't even tried to hold her close.

'Ever the hero eh Peter, I'm fine, thank you'

'I'm a knight in shining armour aren't I?' he smirked

'Oh I don't know about that!'

She returned his smirk with a cheesy grin before walking away, determined not to spend too long focusing on the rejection she currently felt.

* * *

Peter once again joined her and led the way, cutting through a side street before coming out onto the sea front. They crossed the road and lent against the barrier of the beach below, waves crashing against the shore. Carla looked ahead as the sea stretched out for miles in every possible direction. She could hear the waves crashing below her but the sea looked calm, mirroring her own feelings as she stood beside peter. The nerves had long gone. Peter always had made her feel comfortable and it seemed that he hadn't lost the ability. Moments passed as they stood in silence, both appreciating the comfort that the others presence brought to them. The comfort was torn apart for both of them when they realised what was coming, Carla was about to leave; it was getting late and it was a long journey back to Weatherfield. Her head dropped as she turned slightly to face him, her mouth opening as she began to say her goodbyes. But peter beat her to it, spinning round and facing her, his eyes devouring hers as his words stunned her

'Don't go. Stay. Please'

'Peter, I can't. I have to go. It's a long drive back home and it's starting to get dark'

'I know, that's what I mean, stay for the night. Don't go just yet. Let me take you out for dinner. It's not safe to drive in the darkness, if nothing else, stay purely for that'

He knew he was clutching at straws, Carla was perfectly capable of driving at night, in fact she loved late night drives and Peter knew this but he was panicking, he wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet.

'Come on Peter, I'm a big girl. I'll be fine. You have your own life here; you don't need me cramping your style'

'Let me take you for dinner. You haven't eaten since you've been here; you need to look after yourself. Just come for dinner with me and then leave after if you're still being stubborn'

Carla smiled, they both knew that they were as stubborn as each other, neither one of them wanting to back down, but she could feel her tummy rumbling beneath her top and she really was hungry - what harm could dinner do?

'Okay, you win. Come on let's go'

'No. Not yet. I need to head back to work and lock up. There's a restaurant down there that overlooks the harbour' he pointed down the road to where it looked a little busier 'you can't miss it, they have fairy lights all outside'. Peter looked down at his watch and noticed that it was now gone 5 'I'll meet you there at 6.45, okay'

'Peter what am I going to do until then? Let's just go now'

'I can't, Carla I'm sorry, please meet me there later'

'Oh I don't know Peter; I wasn't meant to be here for this long'

'I need to head back to work Carla; I'm the only one who can lock up today. I'm so sorry. I'll be at the restaurant later; I really, really hope you'll join me, but if you don't I understand. Okay?'

He lent forward and kissed Carla's cheek, Carla turning her head slightly to rest against his cheek before he pulled away again. With that he turned and began to walk away. Carla realised why he had to leave, he had a new life in Portsmouth, and clearly part of his new life was the new love he had found with the woman from the bookies she had seen early. The realisation and the sight of Peter leaving her once again left a lump in her throat.

Peter crossed the road and stopped, turning to face Carla once more

'I'll see you Carla'

Carla's breath escaped her once more, this was their own personal little goodbye, he hadn't forgotten.

'Not if I see you first' she replied, a small smile spread on her lips.

Peter gave her one last look before turning on his heel and walking back through the side street and out of sight. Carla was now stood alone, in an unfamiliar town, tears prickling her eyes as she watched Peter leave her once again.

* * *

 **There we go, the latest chapter - I hope you all enjoy it and as always review are gratefully received! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

She watched as Peter slowly but surely disappeared from her view. A single tear ran down her cheek as his leather jacket finally vanished from her eyesight. Carla was frozen to the spot, her legs felt heavy and her heart ached beneath her top. She hadn't wanted to even speak to Peter, but now, as she had just watched him walk away from her all over again, she realised that Peter was the only one she wanted to speak to right now. She had really enjoyed his company that afternoon; once the initial shock had faded, it felt like no time had passed. Their friendly banter and questionable looks mirrored those that they shared all those years ago when Peter was still with Leanne and although he wanted Carla, he didn't want to betray his wife; and all Carla could do was love him from afar. And now, Peter had another love in his life, and Carla wasn't sure she was strong enough to love him from afar again. Her mind was racing; she couldn't love Peter Barlow, not after everything. This was simply just the shock of the situation. Peter had moved on, she had moved on. This whole situation was ludicrous.

Desperately she ran a hand through her hair and turned away from the side street she had watched Peter disappear into. She watched the waves lap gently against the sea front and gripped onto the railings as she desperately tried to compose herself. She closed her eyes, the sea air encapturing her as she breathed in and out and tried to bring her heart rate back to a normal speed. She tried to block out the thousand thoughts spinning in her mind and attempted to focus on the sound of the crashing waves below her. She stood this way for what felt like eternity until she finally realised it was no use, she couldn't block out the thoughts and memories that an afternoon in Peter Barlow's company had awoken. She sighed, loudly, she was exasperated. Peter really had left her once again. She realised how crazy she sounded, why shouldn't Peter leave her alone, she was nothing to him now, he had a new girlfriend, he was happy, perhaps they had even started a family together –

'Perhaps she gave him the baby girl I couldn't' she whispered.

That was it, the final straw. The idea of Peter living the life that they should have been living together with Simon and their baby girl became too much and finally the tears she had so desperately been trying to conceal broke free. They ran down her cheeks before she had chance to stop them.

Carla had a choice to make; was she going to stay and meet Peter later, or was she going to get in her car and drive far away from him, back to Nick and live the comfortable life he had promised her? Her thoughts wandered to Nick and she hated herself for betraying him like this. Carla knew he loved her; he made no attempt of hiding that; there was no game playing or lies. He was safe. But Carla couldn't deny that he didn't make her feel the way that Peter had done in those few hours they had spent together today; her heart didn't beat that little bit faster when he looked at her, nor did a pang of sadness surround her when he let go of her. But Peter wasn't an option to her now, not in that way at least; yet still she found herself scared to spend a moment longer in his company through fear of the emotions currently coursing through her body. She battled with herself, desperately trying to decide whether she should listen to her head or her heart.

* * *

When Peter woke up that morning he never in a thousand years would have expected his day to turn out the way that it had. Not only had he come face to face with the love of his life; he had took her for coffee and they had enjoyed each other's company. Peter knew he didn't deserve anything from Carla, he expected her to refuse the coffee and he wouldn't have blamed her. He had hurt her in the worst imaginable way and he hated himself every day because of it. Peter was in a daze, he was stunned, half on cloud nine and half terrified of what was about to happen. There was no denying that Peter was still attracted to Carla, how couldn't he be? She still took his breath away and a single look from her made his body react in ways he couldn't control. It had never just been physical between Carla and Peter though, they had understood each other in a way that they had never shared with anyone else. They knew what the other was thinking, feeling or worrying about without a word needing to be spoken. Peter was frustrated though because right now he couldn't read Carla and he was petrified of what was about to come.

As Peter pushed open the door to the bookies the female silhouette emerged from the door that led to the office out back;

'Peter where the hell have you been? I've been phoning you all afternoon' she snapped, clearly Peters disappearing act hadn't gone down too well.

'Carla's here' Peter whispered, a look of utter confusion on his face, his voice sounding unsure, as if he was reminding himself that this afternoon really had happened.

'What, THE Carla?!' the woman gasped, her jaw dropping slightly and her eyes widening.

Peter slowly nodded, 'Yes, it's her - she's here'.

'Wow, how is she?'

'Amazing. She looks better than she ever has. Honestly Claire, she's glowing. It was such a shock, I can't believe it and now I don't know what's going to happen and I-'

'Peter' Claire interrupted him, she had never seen him quite so flustered and was struggling to keep up with his ramblings 'slow down, start again'.

'When I went for a fag earlier she was there, she was just sat on the bench and before she had even looked in my direction I knew it was her. Anyway we went for coffee and just talked. That's all we did Claire, honestly. We talked about anything and everything and I can't describe how it felt, it was such a surreal experience. I asked her to meet me tonight for dinner but she said she needs to go back to Weatherfield. I'd love to have dinner with her, just one last time but you know I said she had moved on with Nick? I expect she needs to get back to him' he said, there was no denying the sadness and jealousy in Peters voice as he spoke but he knew he had no right to feel that way.

'Wow, Peter. I don't know what to say. I thought you had just been skiving all afternoon, I never expected you to announce this' Claire said.

'Trust me Claire, neither did I. Now I know we had plans tonight but do you mind if I come round another time instead? I know Carla probably won't show tonight but I need to be there, just in case, I'll never forgive myself otherwise'.

Claire nodded; she wasn't sure what else she could say. She grabbed her coat, put her arm around peters shoulders and wished him luck for tonight before leaving the bookies. Peter quickly moved the money from the till to the safe, turned the monitors off and locked the door behind him. A normal lock up would take time, really he should stay and count profits, check security and prepare for the next day but Peter wasn't going to waste a second tonight; he needed to head home and get ready for what may be a perfect night.

* * *

Carla had finally got the tears under control, and her breathing was almost back to normal. She was still stood on the sea front, and she still hadn't made her mind up of what she was going to do. Her hands were shaking ever so slightly and her cheeks felt hot where the tears had poured down them. It was getting colder now, the sunlight had long gone and the hubbub of people had simmered down. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and wrapped her arms around her - her own way of protecting herself. She turned her body slightly, looking down the road to where Peter had told her the restaurant was; it was quiet, she could see fairy lights twinkling far in the distance and knew that that would be where Peter would be waiting for her in just over an hour from now. She turned and looked the other way, back in the direction of her car. As she did so two people walked toward her, they strolled together hand in hand, laughing loudly and clearly they were in a very happy relationship. Those two people, right in that second made Carla's mind up for her. She knew what she was going to do. With one last look out to sea she turned and walked away from the sea front.

It was now 6:40pm and Peter was stood outside of the restaurant. He had been there for 10 minutes already, determined not to be late tonight. He had been home and showered and changed, dressed in black jeans and suit jacket with a contrasting white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top; he wanted to make an effort but keep it causal and felt like his was the perfect balance. The lights of the restaurant illuminated the street in every direction and as Peter paced back and forth he couldn't hide his nerves. Wringing his hands together he took a deep breath before stuffing his hands into his jean pockets and returning to pacing up and down the pavement outside the restaurant. Peter had resigned himself to the fact that Carla wasn't going to join him tonight, not only did he hurt her, not only did she now have Nick, but he had also left her stranded earlier - granted it was for good reason but he guessed it sounded pretty lame to Carla. He looked at his watch, it was now 6.50pm; she was late. Peter took a seat under the canopy of one of the table and chairs outside the restaurant. He had worked himself into such a state that his leg was shaking beneath the table and his fingers desperately fiddled with a napkin as he tried to distract himself from the hurt he felt. Peter had enjoyed Carla's company so much that afternoon and just wanted to prolong their time together that little bit more. 6:55pm came and past and Peter had now accepted that he would be heading home a lot sooner than he had hoped. With the last bit of hope he told himself he would stay until 7pm, silently praying that Carla would show. It was now dark and the temperature had certainly dropped, the harsh winds that came from being on the sea front hit Peters face harshly. He let out a deep sigh, one that came from deep within; it was 7pm, and Carla was a no show. He stood from his seat, gently tucking the chair in and turning to leave. A shiver ran up his spine, only this wasn't from the cold weather, this was because of what he had spotted in the distance. Or rather who he had spotted gliding towards him. She was moving rather quickly but still had such an effortless grace that she quite literally took his breath away. She looked different though, no longer wearing the jeans and blouse from earlier she was now dressed in a long sleeve navy blue dress that finished just above her knees, her toned legs were bare and she had her trademark black heels that finished off her outfit perfectly. Her hair was how it was earlier, although now one side was tucked behind her ear and the other draped down the side of her face. The natural colour of her lips highlighted by a simple stoke of lip-gloss. Peter was rooted to the spot as she smiled that smile that could light up any room.

'I'm so sorry I'm late, I got a little lost' she said. She was lying, she wasn't lost, how could she be, Peter had told her exactly where it was and it's not somewhere you can miss with its illuminated front. But how could she tell Peter that she had spent the last hour and twenty minutes trying to find an outfit that was both stunning but still looked casual; that not only had she faced her worst nightmare and entered a public toilet, she had also got changed in there and then using the emergency makeup she carried in her bag tried to make herself look presentable and cover the panda eyes left by her mascara earlier that day.

Finally regaining the ability to speak Peter replied 'Its fine, no need to apologise. You look amazing, I mean, you look, you know, you look nice' he mumbled slightly flustered, not wanting to make Carla feel uneasy around him. She smiled modestly.

'Thank you Peter, you've brushed up well I can't deny it' she replied.

'Well you know, you never lose it' he smirked.

'So come on then, are we eating or what? I'm starving'.

'Right this way m'lady' Peter gestured, half bowing and outstretching his hand and opening the door for her.

'Stand up properly you idiot' Carla laughed, slapping his shoulder as she entered the restaurant.

A waiter approached her and before Carla had the chance to speak Peter was by her side.

'Table for two please' Peter requested.

'Right this way please'.

Peter motioned for Carla to go first, following closely behind her. As she followed the waiter Carla looked around the restaurant and marvelled in its beauty. It was a mix of quaint and sophisticated with wooden beams on the ceilings. Mood lighting and fairy lights hung around the walls and candles were delicately placed in the middle of every table. It was a stunning restaurant and Carla was impressed that Peter would choose somewhere like this. Suddenly Carla's heart sank, as she realised that this was probably Peter's new girlfriends favourite place to eat and that's how Peter knew about it. She shook her heard vigorously, determined not to dwell on things too much tonight. Peter saw her shaking her head in such a dramatic fashion he couldn't help but laugh.

'You alright there?' He chuckled.

They reached the table and the waiter pulled Carla's seat out for her. Carla rolled her eyes at Peter before saying a very quick

'I'm fine'.

Peter hung his jacket on the back of his chair before taking his seat opposite Carla. The waiter stood between them and reached for his notepad.

'Can I get you both a drink?'

'Orange juice please and a glass of red for the lady' Peter smirked.

'Actually, can I have a lemonade please' Carla announced, looking at the waiter who was writing their orders down.

'Carla-' Peter started, a look of disapproval on his face.

'Peter' she quickly jibed back.

'She'll have the red' Peter told the waiter forcefully who rolled his eyes and amended the order once again.

'No. Really, just lemonade for me please' Carla told him firmly. The waiter quickly walked away before they had time to change their mind again.

Peter looked down at his fingers that lay in his lap, he felt ashamed, he knew Carla loved a glass of red and hated the thought that she was holding herself back because of Peter's personal demons.

'Carla you really didn't need to do that. You know I have no problem with you having a drink, you should know that by now' he said.

'That's not-'

Peter looked up; he needed Carla to see his face as he spoke.

'Seriously Carla, I've been sober for over a year. It's a part of my life I can never get back but a part I regret every single day. That part of my life is over now. I hurt too many people, I lost too much. I'd never drink again'.

She was suddenly overcome with emotion. She stared at Peter, their gaze meeting as the candle flickered beneath them. Peter's voice was laced with such determination and sincerity, his face so confident and his eyes so honest that Carla knew he was telling the truth. He had finally learned his lesson; it was just a shame that it was too late.

'Peter, if you had let me finish, I've ordered lemonade because I need to drive back to Weatherfield tonight. I'm already knackered and adding a glass of red to it wouldn't be a good mix. I know you're sober, I can tell simply by looking at ya'.

Peter smiled sheepishly at Carla.

'And by the way, I believe you. I don't think you'll drink again' she added, wanting to let him know that she believed he had learned from his mistakes. They maintained eye contact, the tension between them electric as they both took in the familiar features of their past lovers.

* * *

They were both ravenous by this stage, not just for each other but also for food. They browsed the menu as the waiter returned carrying their drinks. He placed the drinks on the table and once again reached for his notebook.

'Are you ready to order?' He asked apprehensively, desperately trying to avoid another marriage domestic.

Peter glanced at Carla,

'You ready?' She nodded.

'Can I have the steak please, medium rare, with the beef dripping sauce' he said, pointing to his choice on the menu. Carla laughed, of course Peter had ordered the steak, it was his favourite and he always treated himself when they were out. Peter raised his eyebrow at Carla knowing exactly what she was laughing at and also knowing exactly what was to come.

'Come on then, Miss adventurous, your turn' he mocked.

'Can I have the pasta carbonara please, and some garlic bread' she smiled at the waiter, purposefully ignoring Peter's smug grin.

'Exactly as I predicted, your go-to meal whenever you don't know what you fancy' Peter chuckled.

Their eyes met once more as they both reminisced about all of the times they had been out for dinner in the past, how they both still knew exactly what the other would order and how they were both feeling incredibly lucky to be sat in each other's company enjoying dinner once more.

'So, did you find something to entertain yourself with when I went back to work?' Peter asked breaking the companionable silence.

'Isn't that obvious' Carla smirked, gesturing to the shopping bags at her feet. 'Sorry I brought them with me, I was going to take them back to my car earlier but I was already so late and I thought you would leave if I didn't get a wiggle on'.

'I was just about to leave as you arrived' Peter admitted. Carla looked hurt at the thought of him not being there tonight. 'In all honesty Carla I didn't expect you to come tonight, I'd been here nearly half an hour and had resigned myself to the fact you had left'.

'Half an hour? I was only 15 minutes late Peter, don't exaggerate!' Carla cackled.

'Yes, that's true, but I came early, I didn't want to be late just in case you did decide to come' he said.

Carla smiled, she was touched that Peter had made the effort, especially knowing how rubbish he was at time keeping and how many times she had sat waiting for him before.

'Wow, I really am honoured' she teased.

'So, come on then, how is everyone? How's Michelle?' Peter asked, ignoring the mocking tone of Carla's voice.

'She's fine, her and Rob are happy. They are re-planning their wedding after the terror of last time and so she's currently resembling bridezilla' Carla laughed.

Peter raised his eyebrows and a grin spread across his face. The waiter approached the table and placed their food in front of them before swiftly turning and leaving them alone once again.

'Alright you, I know I was a little stressy when it was my turn. Which is why I'm being a good maid-of-honour and helping her' she giggled.

Peter smiled at her, relishing in the sound of Carla's giggle. It had been a long time since he had heard it, and even now it still had a remarkable affect on him.

'And you're okay Carla? I hear you and Nick are an item. I'm happy for you. As long as you're happy? That's all I wish for you' Peter lied. Of course, he wanted Carla to be happy; she deserved it more than anyone in this world. But Peter hated the thought that she was with someone else, that it was someone else making her happy, and not just anyone else, Nick Tilsley, Peters lifelong rival.

Carla looked down at her food, playing with it a little as she thought carefully about how to answer this question. Was she happy? With herself? Yes, she had never felt more confident and her business was going from strength to strength. But was she happy with Nick? She had thought she was, but as she looked up and met Peter's intent gaze she already knew the answer. She wasn't happy with Nick, not anymore. He was lovely but he wasn't right for her. He wasn't Peter. But Peter wasn't hers and she couldn't admit any of this to him. Instead she decided on a nonchalant reply.

'I'm great Peter. Honestly. Things are going amazing with the factory. I've got my own flat which I've just finished decorating and I've even started cooking' she proudly stated.

Peters jaw comically dropped open and he pretended to choke on his food.

'Alright alright I say cooking, by this I mean I've started cooking my ready meals in the oven rather than the microwave, it makes the world of difference' She cackled; that dirty Carla giggle ringing in the air.

'I was about to say, I'm all for believing in miracles but even I know that there is no miracle that big' Peter laughed.

'And what about you eh, you looked so happy earlier. Honestly Peter I'm really chuffed for ya' Carla smiled, desperately trying to hide the hurt she felt earlier watching Peter with another woman.

Peter stared blankly at Carla, racking his brains trying to figure out what she was referring to. Carla saw the confusion on his face and quickly realised she had dropped herself in it. Knowing there was no way of backtracking here she sighed and said

'Okay so cards on the table, I saw you earlier. When you were in the bookies. I was just sat on the bench after my meeting and I spotted you. I saw you with your girlfriend. She's really pretty Peter. I'm so glad you're happy' Carla smiled a smile and prayed that it reached her eyes and looked remotely convincing.

'My girlfriend?' He muttered blankly.

'Yeah'.

'Oh Carla! That's not my girlfriend! That's Claire. She's married to the owner. Do you ever remember me talking about Tom? I was in the navy with him? Well he moved here after we left the navy and Claire is his wife. She helps out at the bookies but we are definitely not together. I was actually supposed to be going round to theirs for dinner tonight; Tom wanted to talk through some new business ideas' he said sincerely.

'Oh' Carla replied, awkwardly playing with the last of her food.

'So have you been here before then?' Carla asked, once again looking around and admiring the interior.

'I haven't no, it's a bit fancy for me but I thought you would like it'.

'I do, honestly its lovely Peter' Carla smiled.

* * *

The conversation flowed effortlessly as they finished their meals. The waiter cleared the empty plates and Peter ordered them both some fresh drinks, desperate to not let the evening end so early.

'Has Simon been down to see you recently?' Carla quizzed, intrigued to know how the father and son are getting on.

'No' Peter sighed. 'He hasn't been in a while but he's hoping to come down soon. We keep in contact all the time though, we text and phone each other and if I can get the laptop to work he does this thing where we video call? I don't know what it is but it's great that I can see him'.

'Still as tech savvy as ever I see Peter' Carla mocked, 'But it's great that you're in contact, bet you're excited to see him'.

'I am, I really am, I miss him so much' Peter half smiled.

The waiter approached and placed the bill on the table between them.

'I'll get this' Carla said, reaching for the bill.

Peter was quicker than her though, moving at lightening speed he said

'You will do no such thing. I asked you to dinner, I am getting this'.

'Peter, its fine, let me pay' she argued.

'Carla give it up, it's not happening. My treat' he stated, reaching for his wallet.

'Thank you Peter' she smiled, knowing there was no point in arguing with him about this.

Peter saw Carla check her watch and bite her lip anxiously. Presuming she was looking for a way out of the situation Peter spoke up and gave her a get out of jail card. He had had dinner with her; he didn't want to force her to stay when she wanted to leave.

'We should go, you have a long drive back home yet' he said rising to his feet and putting his jacket on.

Carla looked up from her watch, her eyes meeting his as her heart dropped. In reality she was looking at her watch to see how long she could stay; desperate not to leave Peter just yet. Believing Peter was trying to cut their time together short she rose to her feet and collected her bags before following him out of the restaurant.

* * *

Peter led the way as they strolled towards her car. It was now gone 10 and it was a lot colder than when they entered the restaurant. Carla shivered and pulled her flimsy jacket tighter around her. Peter noticed her shiver and removed his jacket, placing it around her shoulders.

'Peter no, you'll be freezing! Here have it back'.

'I'll be fine, you're freezing, put it on properly' he ordered.

'Yes boss' Carla mock saluted him and laughed 'thank you Peter'.

'You're welcome'.

Peter was taking Carla the longest route he possibly could back to her car. The sea front was almost empty by this time but they could hear the faint screams from the fair on the pier at the other end of the beach. Before turning into the side street that led to her car they stopped and looked over the barrier out to sea, the waves harsher than earlier. Carla was staring ahead; she had spotted a ship sailing in the distance. Peter however wasn't staring out to sea, he was staring at Carla, taking in her beauty at every opportunity as he knew she was about to leave him. Unaware that she was being watched, Carla yawned a yawn so big it took her by surprise. She was beyond exhausted by now.

'Carla you're in no fit state to drive back' Peter worried.

'I'll be fine' she replied, realising he must have spotted her yawn.

'Carla you're knackered. At least stay the night, what if you crash? I'll never forgive myself' the fear in his voice was evident.

'Peter I can't, I'll never find a hotel at this time of night' she replied, as much as she knew he was right, she also knew everywhere would be booked up.

'You could, you know, always come back to mine' he added awkwardly, shifting slightly on his feet.

'Peter-'

'Just for a nightcap, nothing more I promise. Scouts honour' he looked at Carla, desperate to prove that his intentions really were honest and he just wanted her safe.

'You were never a scout Barlow, but thank you' she smiled, pretending to look defeated but secretly being thrilled that she got to spend longer with Peter.

* * *

Peter opened the door to his flat, gesturing for Carla to enter. He switched on the lights and kicked his shoes off behind the door before reaching and removing the jacket from Carla's shoulders and hanging it on the hooks.

'You must be exhausted, come on, let's get you to bed' he smirked, unable to hide the flirtation in his voice.

'Oh yeah?' Carla replied, an equal smirk spread on her face. Her insides constricted and she ached deep within at the mere mention of going to bed with Peter. Was her dream really about to come true?

'Yeah, come on. You can have my bed, I'll sleep on the sofa' he said as he led the way into his bedroom.

'Oh Peter I can't take your bed, I'll sleep on the sofa'.

'Carla don't be an idiot, there's no way I'm letting you sleep on the sofa. You're in my bed. No arguments' he argued, grabbing a pillow off the bed and fetching a blanket from the wardrobe.

'Thank you Peter. Honestly you didn't have to do this' she smiled.

Peter walked towards her, one hand swinging free, the other holding the pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.

'Don't even mention it' he said.

'And thank you for dinner too. I had a lovely evening. Actually I had a lovely day Peter. It's been great. Thank you'.

Peter was now stood in front of her. He was stood closer than he had all day, close enough for Carla to be able to smell his aftershave. She smiled as she realised that it was the same one he always used to wear. Peter reached forward and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingertips just slightly brushing against her skin as Carla tried to conceal the gasp her body had involuntarily made.

'You're very welcome Carla. I had a lovely time. Now get to bed.' He leant forward and placed a swift chaste kiss on her cheek before turning and walking towards the door. Carla tried to speak but the words failed to form on her tongue. Peter reached the door and turned to look at her

'Goodnight Carla'.

'Goodnight Peter' she whispered.

Peter closed the door and she heard his footsteps retreat back to the living area. She raised her hand and cupped it to her cheek where Peter's lips had been just seconds before. She smiled. It had been so long since she felt Peters kiss and it still had the ability to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This wasn't a passionate kiss by any means but at this moment in time it felt perfect. Carla breathed in contentedly as she thought that maybe coming to Portsmouth wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

 **So sorry for the wait in uploading, I was unsure whether to continue with this or not but here you go - the latest chapter! Enjoy and please leave any suggestions in the reviews! xx**


	6. Chapter 6

As Carla opened her eyes the next morning a state of confusion overtook her; it took her a few seconds to adjust before she realised where she was. She was in his bed; in Peters bed. This was beyond crazy. She took a moment to look around his bedroom, she had been in such a hurry to go to sleep last night that she hadn't focused on anything. Peters room was nice but plain, a typical man's room but something didn't feel quite right. The walls were painted cream and there was a wooden floor. There was a wardrobe and chest of drawers but that was pretty much it. In the centre of the room was the double bed that Carla lay curled up in. The bedding was black and white, and it was the only patterned item in the otherwise very plain and boring room. His bed was comfy but nowhere near as comfy as the bed Carla had at home, yet despite this, she had an amazing night's sleep. She pulled the duvet further up her body and turned her head slightly, her nose was flush against the pillow; she breathed in deeply and was met with the same smell that eased her to sleep last night. Although this bed wasn't the comfiest in the world, it smelt of Peter and that alone meant everything to Carla. She closed her eyes again, allowing herself to take a moment to fully appreciate what was happening.

Through the gap in the curtains Carla could see that it was still dark outside. There was no clock in the room so reluctantly she threw the duvet off her and scrambled out of bed to find her handbag. As she pressed the button that illuminated the home screen, she saw she had 6 missed calls and 13 messages. Carla rolled her eyes; she had a good guess who they would be from. Once Peter had left her last night, she had sent a quick text to Nick and said she had gone to London for a last-minute business trip and the meeting had overran so she was staying over. There was no denying she felt guilty, but she couldn't deal with that right now because she felt like her bladder would burst. She danced on the spot for a second debating whether she would be able to wait a bit longer, but she groaned when she realised that she needed to go right now. It was just before 6 and Peter would still be asleep, so Carla didn't bother getting changed, instead she quietly opened the door and set about trying to locate Peters bathroom. She walked into the living area of his flat and within seconds spotted Peter on the sofa. He was still asleep, lay on his back, one arm behind his head, one draped across his chest. The blanket he took from his bedroom last night wrapped loosely around his body; the gentle sounds of his breaths echoed around the room. As much as she would have happily stood there and watched him sleep all morning she very quickly continued silently across the flat and into the bathroom.

As she was washing her hands, she briefly glanced around Peters bathroom; a bath with a shower overhead, a toilet and a sink with a mirror hanging above it. Apart from the bottle of shower gel and shampoo and the towel that hung on the towel hanger the room was empty. She rolled her eyes as she compared it to her bathroom back home and quickly summed up this was very clearly a typical 'man's home'. Staring ahead at the mirror she ran her fingers through her hair that hung haphazardly past her shoulders. It was still early and she was definitely going to take advantage of the rare chance of a lie in and with a final glance at her reflection, existed the bathroom. As she made it into the living area she came face to face with Peter, clearly on his way to the loo with his eyes barely open and a hand running through his hair. They both froze, staring at each other in a way that was rather comical considering they had awoken with each other more times than they care to remember. But as she looked from his t-shirt to his boxers, she felt Peters eyes devour her body top to bottom with a smirk on his face.

'I'm sorry I uh didn't have anything else to wear and I didn't want to disturb you so I uh well… I had a little rummage and this is what I found' she said as she motioned down to the boxers and white t-shirt of Peters she had purposely hunted for last night, desperate to feel closer to him. But now, stood under Peters intense gaze she worried she had overstepped the mark.

'I hope you don't mind. I'm really sorry and I'll wash them and -'

'Carla. Calm down. It's fine'

'Thank you'

He leant in close to her ear, his breath hot against her cheek as he whispered

'I always did fancy you in my clothes', before side stepping her and walking into the bathroom leaving Carla stood alone in his lounge.

Carla was suddenly overcome with a number of responses to the small but charged encounter between them. Her heart was racing as the heat from his breath on her cheek subsided, she felt an overwhelming rush when Peter admitted he used to, or maybe still does, fancy her in his clothes and she was beginning to become seriously frustrated that he kept walking away from her. She crossed her arms across her body and stalked to his bedroom once more, deciding that she definitely needed the distance between them, and she could make use of a few more hours sleep.

* * *

Peter re-entered the living area and couldn't ignore the slight pang of sadness when he realised Carla had left already. Taking his place back on the sofa he leant forward, reaching for his fags and placing one between his lips. As he inhaled for the first time that morning, he rested his elbows upon his knees and dropped his head. Soon his thoughts were consumed by the raven-haired woman currently residing in his bedroom. Yesterday had been such a rollercoaster of emotions and he still couldn't quite comprehend that Carla, the woman who had stolen his thoughts since the day she effortlessly strolled into that support group, had turned up in Portsmouth of all places! Something didn't quite sit right with the reasoning she had given but he knew better than to push it, knowing all too well how quick those walls could be built back up around her. He did however have so many questions for her, and despite himself, he was craving spending more time with her. He debated going into his room to talk to her but worried that she would get the wrong idea. Had she already fallen back to sleep? Was she dressing to head back home to Weatherfield? Was she missing Nick? He stood up, momentarily bracing himself to go and find her before stopping in his tracks, sighing and flopping back down onto the sofa before reaching over the table and picking up his phone.

Carla lay in Peters bed, the duvet pulled up around her shoulders and her head resting against the pillows, Peters lingering aroma attacking her senses. She knew there was no way she could go back to sleep now, she never could, as soon as she was awake that was it. Carla stared at the ceiling, contemplating all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. How on Earth had she ended up in Peters bed? Why did being around him feel so natural? And why didn't she regret a single moment of it? Her phone flashed from its place on Peters chest of drawers next to the bed. Rolling her eyes, she reached over to retrieve it, expecting yet another message from Nick. Carla inhaled sharply as she read the name that illuminated her screen. Peter. It had been so long since that name had lit her phone to life that she didn't even think he still had her number. She presumed he deleted her number when he moved away, although, despite the numerous attempts at deleting his, she could never quite bring herself to do it. Taking a deep breath, she swiped her finger across the screen and opened the message.

' _Are you sleeping, or did you go to steal more of my clothes?'_

' _Busted. Was just about to steal your suit'_

' _Ah and here I was thinking you preferred the leather jacket'_

' _Maybe my tastes have changed Barlow. Is there a reason you're disturbing my beauty sleep?'_

' _You're forgetting something, I know you and I know there's no chance you're going back to sleep now you're awake. I'm bored and wide awake too. Coffee?'_

' _Now my tastes definitely haven't changed on the coffee front. Could murder one!'_

' _See you in 5?'_

' _Go on then'_

Exactly five minutes later, Carla emerged from the bedroom to find Peter making the coffee in the kitchen. He turned swiftly when he heard the floorboard creak and raised his eyebrow as he let his eyes roam her stolen dressing gown clad frame.

'Sit down, I won't be a sec' he said as he motioned toward the sofa in the middle of the room.

She sat down, repositioning herself so her back reclined against the cushion behind, and once more her eyes scanned the room. The living room, much like Peters, there was something missing. Something was off. A TV hung on the wall, a single blue sofa angled for perfect viewing and a coffee table in between were the only items of furniture in the room. In that moment Carla decided that although this was a house, it wasn't a home. It wasn't cosy, there was no finishing touches or anything of sentimental value apart from the one single picture displayed proudly on the coffee table. A photo of Simon and Peter, Peter stood behind Simon, his arms draped over his shoulders and the both of them smiling wildly at the camera. She felt the corners of her lips turn upwards slightly before clearing her throat.

'Peter, can I ask you something?' She spoke softly, smiling gratefully at him as he placed the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her and sat at the other end of the sofa.

'Sure. What is it?'

'Where is all your stuff?'

Peter frowned at her, unsure of how to answer a question that baffled him.

'What do you mean?' He asked as he twisted his body, his back now resting against the arm and his head cocked to one side. 'This _is_ my stuff'.

'I mean, where is _your_ stuff? There's nothing here. There's nothing that's yours. There's none of your crap lying around the place. There's nothing sentimental or- I don't know there's not even anything that reminds me of you, or of anyone back home. In fact, I wouldn't even know this was your place. It just doesn't feel... right, I guess'

She watched intently as his eyes roamed the room, a blank face taking in the sparse area before his eyes dropped to his lap.

'Peter?'

'I like it down here, I do. I'm doing well, I'm dry, I'm not on the sauce but I just- I never really fully settled in'. Once more Peters eyes flicked around the glaringly empty room. 'This isn't my home, I just stay here' he mumbled, his eyes downcast.

Carla felt her throat constrict at his words, a pang of guilt settling in her tummy.

'Why don't you come back then? To Weatherfield I mean. I'm sure your dad would let you stay, and I'm sure Si would love it' she smiled happily at him, refusing to admit that Simon wouldn't be the only person thrilled at peters return.

'I can't' he whispered, barely loud enough for Carla to hear as he shook his head. He raised his head, his eyes locking with hers and he watched her open her mouth to speak, 'I can't' he spoke more determinedly.

'But why? You don't have any ties here Peter. Your family aren't here'

'I just can't. Please leave it at that Carla, I really really don't want to get into this with you right now. I just want to... be'

His exhausted and deflated tone pulled at her heart strings and despite wanting to continue this conversation, to delve further into the confusing, challenging and complicated mind of Mr Peter Barlow, she knew better than to push things. Instead she reached forward, bringing the mug to her lips and sipped the coffee he had made. Neither one of them spoke as they sat on the sofa, the silence surrounding them but rather than an awkward silence, this was one of comfort, of closeness, of the both of them understanding that their relationship didn't require them to talk inanely to fill the void of silence, and that in this moment, they both sat silently reflecting on their previous life, on the life they shared together, and of the life and experiences they once planned on sharing together.

As the time slowly passed, the dregs of the coffee swirling in the cup, Carla glanced up, her eyes darting toward Peter who was watching her intently. His right arm leant against the back of the sofa as his head rested against his palm and suddenly Carla had an overwhelming urge to reach out and run her fingers through his stubbled beard. It had been so long since she had felt him against her, and she couldn't help but bring her own hand to the cheek he had left a brief tender kiss on the night before.

'I best get ready to make a move' she whispered, shocking even herself at the sound of her voice. She hadn't planned on leaving yet, but somewhere within her, within her unconscious thoughts maybe, she knew that she had to leave. She knew the longer she spent in this frustratingly gorgeous man's presence, the harder it would be to leave. 'I'll just nip and have a wash if you don't mind and get changed and then I'll be out of your hair. Thanks so much for-'

'Don't go' he blurted out before he could even stop himself. 'Not yet. Stay'

'Peter'

'Spend the day with me. I want to take you somewhere. I want to show you something, you'll like it. I promise' he stared deep into the green eyes before him, his chest constricting at an alarming rate at the fear of Carla leaving so soon. He knew, deep down, that this was ridiculous, he knew she had a life to get back to, a life that no longer included him, yet still he couldn't help but look at her with such hope that she couldn't deny him.

'Fine. Okay, you win, I lose. But if you're dragging me out I need more than a quick wash, do you mind if I jump in your shower?'

'Be my guest, it's not as fancy as yours but I'll get you a fresh towel' he said as he rose from the sofa and headed toward the bedroom before stopping in his tracks. 'Unless, of course, you've stole them too' he chuckled, turning to face her and giving her a wink.

'Oh shut it you!' She giggled, reaching for a cushion and launching it across the room, aiming directly for his face had he not side stepped out of the way with a gasp, his hand rising and lying across his heart.

'Careful you, my old ticker can't keep up with your shenanigans'

* * *

An hour later and Peter was guiding Carla out of his flat, repositioning the bag thrown over his shoulder as he pulled the door closed behind him. He led the way, walking swiftly and Carla fell naturally in line beside him. She followed him as he retraced the steps from the previous night, practically running along the street and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth as she watched his animated expression. She already knew they were heading toward the seafront, but what had got him so excited?

Peter practically ran across the road that ran parallel to the beach and came to rest against the barriers, breathing in the smells that made him crave the open waters. Carla was watching him intently, she knew Peter always battled with his desire to be back at sea, to feel free once more but even with the events of the past few years, all that had happened with Tina and the baby, he had somehow managed to keep his legs on dry land.

'Come on let's go' his childlike, excitement filled, voice snapped her back to reality. She watched as Peter quickly descended down the steps a few feet away that led down onto the sand.

'Peter no way!' she countered, shaking her head as she watched Peter stand on the uneven ground beneath his feet.

'Carla come on'

'Excuse me have you seen what shoes I'm wearing?!' She called as she motioned down to her footwear with a sweeping hand glide, 'I only have the heals I came in and there is no way on this earth that these are getting me across that sand'

'Simple then, take them off' he stated as if the answer to her issues was glaringly obvious.

'There is absolutely no way I am taking my shoes off and walking across that. You don't know what's been on it' she stated, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. Carla was about to turn and head back towards his flat, happy to write this idea off as a disaster until she saw the disappointed look on his face. The way his eyes dropped to the floor and he blew out a puff of air from between his cheeks as he ran his hand along his jaw. Before she could stop herself, she was bending down and undoing one boot, quickly followed by the other as she stepped out of them and straightened up, one eyebrow perfectly arched at Peter whose mouth was gaping.

Inhaling sharply, she quickly made her way down the steps. 'You owe me' she said, slapping her hand against peters chest as she came face to face with him. The smile that spread across his face was somewhat infectious and they soon found themselves stood grinning inanely at one another.

'Follow me' he said, turning and walking away.

As they made their way across the sandy underfoot, Carla took a moment to appreciate the stillness, the quietness, the complete peacefulness that could be found here, a distinct difference from the hustle and bustle of Weatherfield. The cool weather expected of that time of year meant the beach was somewhat deserted as they made their way across the sand to the rock edge of the far side. The tide was out, and she could faintly see the waves far down the beach cascading onto the shore. Once they reached the rocks that climbed high above the beach, Peter led the way as they followed it round until they found a small cave-like opening under the rocks that directly faced the ocean. Peter was already inside and rooting through the bag that was now placed on the floor before he noticed that Carla hadn't yet joined him inside, he watched as her left hand came to rest on the inside of the entrance of the cliff alcove, her fingers running over the jagged rocks as she took in her surroundings.

'Carla?' He called, snapping her out of her daydream instantly.

'Hmmm?' She span round to face him and finally realised what was in the bag.

In the middle of the hidden alcove lay a striped blanket and next to the blanket was a small tray with two glasses, a bottle of orange juice, and what seemed to a selection of snacks. She watched as peter kicked off his shoes before stepping onto the blanket, lowering himself to the ground with his legs outstretched in front of him and his arms propping him up.

'You joining me?' He asked as he looked up and met her gaze with a cheeky grin.

'So that's why you were carrying the bag. I did wonder you know, a backpack isn't usually your thing' she said as she made her way over to him, dropping her shoes next to the blanket and sitting parallel to Peter, her position a direct copy of his.

'This' she began as she motioned to the tray, 'is lovely Peter, but you didn't have to do anything'

'I know, I wanted to. Thought you ought to see the best Portsmouth had to offer being as you're here'

'And this is it, is it? This is the best it has to offer me?'

'Well, that is the very best orange juice the supermarket sells, and you are in the company of the most handsome man that lives here so yeah I'd say this is as good as it gets for you'

'Wow, you really are putting Portsmouth on the map eh' she teased, laughing when Peter stuck his bottom lip out. 'I'm joking I'm joking, come on, give me a glass of that juice please - turns out walking across sand is exhausting!'

'I would have got you something other than juice, but I didn't want to keep you waiting this morning and obviously the options at my place are somewhat limited' he said dryly as he reached over and began to pour liquid into the awaiting glasses.

'How ever will I cope?' She countered as she reached out and took the glass from him.

Two hours later and there they sat, together in this secluded little alcove hidden between the nature's cliff faces, talking animatedly about whatever topic sprung to mind; Peters job and the friends he had made; new orders and the workers at the factory; and everything Peter missed about Weatherfield. The snacks Peter had brought were half ate on the tray and the empty glasses discarded to the side. Carla shifted awkwardly, the prolonged sitting becoming somewhat uncomfortable.

'Tell you what Peter, this is a hell of a lot more endearing when you see it on TV, my backside is killing me' she groaned as she stretched her arms behind her, her back arching as she did so. Peter eyes automatically sought out the gentle mounds of her chest - encased within the thick blouse she had teamed with her jeans that day - that were suddenly prominent in her new position, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He cleared his throat before saying

'Yeah I never usually spend this long in here. I found it once when I was taking a walk and it's become somewhere I come when I just need a moment away. Here, lie back, you can have my jacket as a pillow if you want'

'Are you serious?'

'Why not? We're not as young as we used to be, need to give our bodies a rest now and then' he chuckled, removing his jack and placing it behind Carla before lying down himself.

'Oi you! You talk for yourself, I am in my prime, old man' she said in mock offence before shuffling down the blanket and laying her head on the makeshift pillow.

So there they lay, two people, former man and wife, former lovers who should now be strangers but in reality they still understood each other the same way they always had, lay together staring up at the roof of the alcove, the sounds of the sea surrounding them as their companionable silence relaxed them to the point where their eyes were starting to softly close.

'Peter?' Carla mumbled.

'Hmmm?' He was so nearly asleep, but the sound of her soft voice pulled him from the edge slightly.

'Earlier when we were talking, you said you couldn't come back to Weatherfield. What did you mean?'

He sighed deeply; he knew she wouldn't let this go for long.

'When I'm here, it's just me. I'm alone. There's no-one else here with me. I guess, down here, I can't hurt anyone'

His words, so softly spoken, so raw and honest pulled devastatingly at her heart and before she could stop herself, she reached out and tentatively grasped his hand, entwining their fingers together. A simple gesture to remind him that although he was down here alone, he was never really alone. As she gripped his hand within hers, he gave a gentle squeeze, letting her know he understood before the tranquillity overtook and their eyes closed completely.

* * *

It wasn't until a few hours later that Peter awoke, a haze of confusion overtaking him until the gentle lapping of waves at his feet startled him. He sat bolt upright almost immediately, realising they must have fell asleep as the tide was now in and the water had trapped them.

'Carla' he called with no response.

'Carla wake up quick' he tried again, reaching over to give her a shake. Her eyes slowly opened; bewilderment etched upon her features.

'I cannot believe we fell asleep' she chuckled.

'Get up quick. Look' he pointed to the entrance of the alcove 'the tide is in; the waves are coming in here - stand up quickly'

Within seconds they were both on their feet, Peter quickly picking the blanket up off the floor and stuffing it into the backpack, followed by the empty glasses and the tray.

'Peter how are we going to get out of here?

'What do you mean?' He asked, staring at her seriously

'What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean, how are we going to get back up the beach'

'We're not, this is it - these are our final moments'

'What? She shrieked, panic lacing her voice

He tried, he _really_ tried to keep his face straight and his voice solemn, but it was to no avail - he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips and the chuckle that he emitted from within.

'Peter that isn't funny'

'I'm sorry love. Here don't worry. We'll just have to wade through the water until we reach dry ground again'

'Peter seriously stop messing around! What are we going to do?'

'I'm not joking anymore. Seriously, we have to wade through the water' he said as he began to make his way out of the cave, within a few steps his feet were fully submerged, and the water pooled past his ankles.

'No, wait! Don't go through that, I don't want to'

'We don't really have much choice love, and if we don't move quick it's going to be too deep to get back' he said as he watched her. He could see the unease on her face and soon found himself striding towards her, the backpack hung from his shoulders. Carla stood rooted as he approached her, wondering where he was going but her thoughts were soon jolted as he swooped down and scooped her into his arms.

"PETER! Put me down, what are you doing?' She squealed, kicking her legs.

'Will you keep still? You don't want to walk through it, I don't fancy my body washing up on the shore in a few hours so looks like her majesty gets a free ride'

He repositioned her in his arms. One arm wrapped around her back and resting against her hip, the other tucked under her knees as he pulled her close. Carla stopped fighting, realising that she had the best of both worlds; she was getting back to shore without getting wet, and this was the closest she had been to Peter in so long. She dropped the shoes held in her hand into her lap before wrapping her arms around his neck, her head resting gently against his shoulder as Peter walked them through the water.

Moments later and they were on dry land again. There was no ignoring the overwhelming sadness Carla felt knowing that he would soon let her go again.

'There you go my lady, back safe and dry'

'Well thank you but put me down you idiot' she laughed as she kicked her leg.

His grip on her remained tight but as she writhed in his arms he laughed and lowered her to the ground before he dropped her. He straightened up and suddenly they were both aware of their close proximity, their bodies slightly touching, their faces level and their eyes seeking each others. The moment their gaze connected the air escaped their lungs; their breath hitched in their throat as they stood tantalisingly close.

As the sound of the waves faded away to the distance, so did everything else. Nothing else mattered, nothing else was important. The whole world seemingly faded away as Peter brought his hand up and gently cupped Carla's face. His thumb tenderly brushed over her cheekbones as his fingertips rested against her jawline. Matching his intentions, Carla brought her own hand up and rested it against his chest, the gentle strum of his heartbeat ricocheting against her palm as their eyes met. They held each other's gaze, a thousand memories playing in the private cinema that was their mind; all the unspoken wants and desires expressed without a word spoken. Moving as one, as they always were, their lips met in a tender kiss. This wasn't a kiss filled with the passion and lust that their relationship was usually built on; this was tentative and gentle, yet filled with as much desire as is characteristic of the former lovers. Slowly they deepened the kiss, their lips melding together, a perfect fit as they became reacquainted once more. The feel of his beard sent bolts of electricity through her core whereas Peter craved more of her soft lips. The kiss was excitingly new but comfortably familiar all at once; a heady combination which soon had Carla's arms snaking around his neck and Peters hands resting on either side of her hips. They had both waited, needed, arguably longed for this kiss for so long that neither were in any rush for it to come to an end.

* * *

 _ **I am SO sorry this hasn't been updated in so long but if anyone is still reading - here's the latest chapter! Let me know if this is something you would want to continue reading and any ideas you have. Enjoy! xx**_


End file.
